


Dates and Desserts

by VespidaeQueen



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Makeouts, Sexual Content, Tumblr: cracksmash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:46:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VespidaeQueen/pseuds/VespidaeQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They come home from a date and barely make it to the bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dates and Desserts

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an RP-verse based upon a combination of the MCU, EMH, and 616 universes, where Steve and Jan are several months into an established relationship.

 The way she moves against him, legs hooked around his waist, arms around his neck, body pressed so tightly to him, it is no wonder that he can barely manage to get the key to her apartment out. His fingers fumble with it as he feels her mouth, her tongue, her _teeth_ on his skin, his neck, and she peels back his shirt to drop kisses over his shoulder.

“Need...in... _now,_ ” he says, voice strained, because they are still in the hallway, she's pressed up against the door, and he's distracted, so distracted by her. He finally gets the key out, attempts to fit it into the lock while still holding her up. He mostly succeeds.

“Need into _what_ , Steve?” Her words are spoken against his skin and her hips roll and she is terrible, wonderful, _amazing_ -

He tells her as much as he manages to get the door unlocked, and it swings inward and – _clumsy, Steve, don't fall on her, don't trip over your own damn feet_ – drops the key and the box of leftovers from dinner out on the floor, kicks the door shut. There are too many paces between where they are and the bedroom, and he wants to just pin her to the floor right then and there and kiss her senseless.

She's laughing – always laughing, bright little sounds, makes him feel light and happy and _silly_ – and her fingers are undoing the buttons on his shirt, sliding down low and lower, and he growls, finds his footing. It's still too many steps to the bedroom but he makes it – though his tie is left on the floor behind them - and drops her on the bed. She tugs him down on top of her, fingers gripping his shirt tightly, and she hooks her legs around his. This time, he trips, falls – catches himself with a hand to either side of her. The mattress dips beneath their combined weight, and he kisses her, one hand sliding into her short hair.

Jan's lips are soft, her lipstick red, and he is certain there are bright streaks on his own mouth and down his neck. She kisses him with her mouth open, wet and warm, and it's perfect, even when their teeth knock and click together. He takes a moment to draw back and rid himself of the suit jacket and his shirt which Jan has long since gotten completely unbuttoned. The clothes fall to the floor, and he looks at her, laid out before him, her dress bunched up around her waist, bright red fabric that matches the red of her mouth.

“ _Well?_ Are you going to make good on any of those _promises_ you made at dinner?” Her eyes are half lidded and there is red smudged on the side of her mouth. She shakes each foot in turn and there are soft thuds as her heels tumble to the carpet.

He growls something and Jan laughs. Her fingers trail over his stomach as he tosses his shirt to the side and then he leans down again, kissing her fiercely. Her hands are trapped between them both for a moment, and then she slides them around, up his back.

“Steve,” she says when he breaks the kiss. “We left the dessert on the ground, didn't we.”

“Mmm, yeah. We did.” He moves to kiss her jaw, then her neck, and she tips her head back with a little gasp.

“We should probably put it in the fridge. It'll go bad.” But she's doing things with her hips, legs brought up on either side of him, and there's no way he's getting up to put leftover dessert in the fridge now.

“Forget the dessert,” he says, and kisses her again. She still tastes a bit like chocolate.

They're both still wearing too much, though her more than him, and he runs one hand down her side, searching for the zipper on her dress. Sometimes she wears the ones with zippers down the side, but there's no such luck tonight. Steve's hand slides lower, over the bunched up skirt around her waist, and – oh, she's wearing nylons, he can deal with those.

“You know your lips stop moving when you start concentrating on my clothes,” Jan says as he starts rolling one of the nylons down her leg. He pulls back a little – yes, she's absolutely right, he cannot do multitasking when it comes to complicated clothing and kissing – and she's grinning at him.

“What's so funny?” He has to lean back again to get the nylon off her leg – he lets it fall down to the floor when it's free of her foot – and she wiggles her toes at him.

“ _Oooh_ , nothing.” She lifts her other leg up as he tugs that nylon down. “You're just adorable.”

 _“You're_ the one who was concerned about the desserts,” he says, dropping the other nylon onto the ground and moving to kiss her again.

“ _What_ desserts?” She kisses him, her arms sliding around his neck. Her mouth is warm and wet, and she's absolutely getting the remains of her lipstick all over him.

He doesn't really mind.

She slips one hand down to his chest and sort of pushes, and when he looks at her she rolls her eyes.

“I'm trying to flip you over,” she says, and tries it again. It's his turn to laugh.

“Doesn't seem to be working for you.”

“Ssssh.” She pushes again and this time he lets himself roll onto his back, pulling her along so that she's on top of him. “See? It worked.”

“Mmm.” He pulls her down onto him, kissing her deeply. She hums a little, and then moves her hips and he gasps into her mouth. And that gasp is enough to prompt her to move again, a little harder and a little faster, and he grips her thighs and pulls her tight against him. “ _Jan_.”

She smiles and sits up, twisting an arm around to undo her dress. Slides the straps off her shoulders and the rolls away from him, getting out of the dress as quickly as she can. He props himself up, watchs as the fabric falls away from her. Jan looks over at him, kicks her dress off the bed, and leans over, kissing him hard.

“What are you looking at?” she asks him in between kisses, as her hands slide lower, over his stomach and down to rest just above his pants.

“You,” he says. “You're beautiful.”

He's pretty sure she rolls her eyes, but she's grinning.

“You're so sappy,” she tells him. “Positively _gooey_ inside.” Her fingers tap lightly on his belt, and then work to undo it.

Steve's pretty sure that, for all his tactical knowledge, she's far better at getting his clothes off quickly than he is at getting hers off.

The last of their clothes are tossed to the floor – bras are no longer so difficult, not anymore – and Jan's on top of him again, kissing and touching, lips and tongue and teeth, and it's enough to make his breath catch and his heart race. His hands catch at her waist, pulling her tight against him again, and she keeps doing these _things_ with her hips, moving and stopping and moving again until it's like he can't breathe. And he wants – he wants, he wants, he _wants_ – to flip her over and pin her to the bed, trail kisses down her body, taste the salt on her skin, make her gasp and tug his hair and dig her heels into his back.

But that isn't her plan tonight, at least not right now, and she slides onto him, and _he's_ gasping, muscles clenching as she moves, his fingers tight on her thighs.

“ _Jan_ ,” he says again, but it's a word caught in between harsh breathes.

She smiles at him for a moment, before she tilts her head back, sighing and gasping. He can see the curve of her throat, the sheen of sweat along her collarbone, and good lord she is _beautiful_.

When it is over, she sprawls out on top of him, too light to crush him. Her head fits neatly beneath his chin, and he brings up a hand, running his fingers through her short hair until it is slightly less of a mess than it was before. He can feel her heart beat, feel the rise and fall of her chest against his as she breaths. She runs her thumb idly over his bicep and exhales heavily.

“Hey,” he says. “What are you thinking about?”

“Mmmm. Dessert.” Jan props herself up. “I think we left some by the door. It's probably melted.”

Steve runs his fingers over her cheek. “I don't think cake can melt.”

Her mouth curves into a smile. “Probably not. Still.” She rolls to the side and gets up, padding out of the room. There is the sound of opening drawers from the kitchen, and she comes back shortly after with the box of leftovers and two forks. She sits down next to him, pops the box open, and offers him a fork.

“Come on. I can't eat all this dessert by myself.”

He grins, shakes his head a little, and steals a bite of the cake.


End file.
